Words and Photo by Danielle Baker
Dear Mr. Motorist,
Our paths crossed yesterday, almost literally, as I was biking home. You were driving a big old truck with an oversized, tarped load in the back. I was riding my road bike. I shoulder-checked for traffic, signaled, and moved out into the lane to ride about twenty feet and avoid a grate through a narrow section before yielding the road back to motorists. You sped up beside me and passed me. In doing so, with your big truck and overhanging load, you squeezed me to the side, forcing me to hit the grate. In all fairness, it was my choice; I chose to hit it over being hit by you.
I wasn’t prepared to hit the grate and when I did I was pitched forward onto my top tube, causing an unfortunate collision between my vagina and my bike. I can only imagine that causing me to box myself was your sole intention; clearly you could not have been so absent-minded or ignorant while driving that you would accidentally cause bodily harm to a cyclist.
The fact that you could kill someone while simply texting or talking on your cell phone while driving, I assume, would be enough of a deterrent not to do it. And obviously you weren’t drunk; I know it was noon-o’clock somewhere, but I’m sure that you are smarter than that. I am also confident that you were not acting out with completely douchey and overly aggressive behavior that has no justification towards cyclists simply because I was there. All of these behaviors are so un-evolved and represent a shocking disregard to other people’s safety, that I know no motorist would participate in them.
With the exclusion of these factors, I can only assume that you were out to get my vagina and I am left wondering what it possibly could have done to offend you. I didn’t get a good look at you, but based on what I saw, I’m fairly certain that you have never met my vagina. Not that it is superficial, but considering that you tried to kill me I suspect that we may not have ever had an intellectual connection either. There was that one time on spring break with the tequila in Mexico, mind you. . . by any chance do you have a tattoo of a bunny playing lacrosse on your inner thigh?
Even if you had met my vagina (and I’m not bragging) I really don’t think that you would hate it. To my knowledge it has gotten along well with anyone that it has met. It has never caused anyone to run away in tears or throw rocks at it. While it has never received any fan mail, it does seem to make friends easily. Perhaps you have mistaken my vagina for another one? They all look the same, am I right? Perhaps this was a simple case of mistaken vagina, I have heard that this happens. Many men have used it as a defense when they have mistaken the wrong vagina for their wife’s.
I suppose there is a chance that you simply don’t like vaginas, but hey, can’t we all just get along? I have plenty of guy friends that don’t enjoy vaginas, but they have never tried to run me off the road; they just like to tell me when my hair looks like shit. Perhaps you were acting in self-defense. Maybe my vagina looked like it was about to attack you, so you ran it down to prevent that. If you are a Primus fan I can understand where this fear may stem from, but let me clear up some things for you. Women do not actually keep their beavers in a cage, nor do they actually bite, nor would we mistake them for a porcupine. Sometimes a song is just a song and Wynona is just a girl with a pet. The danger of vagina attacks has been greatly sensationalized in the media; please stop watching FOX News.
Truth be told, this is not the first time someone has waged an attack on my vagina while I was riding my bike. This is not an unusual situation and you are not unique. In my years of commuting and road riding I have had people turn into me, open their door in front of me and yell at me simply for existing. If you ask any bike rider they can bend your ear for hours with stories of encounters with motorists. It’s actually quite boring and repetitive because it is so common.
I really do want to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that your actions were the result of a focused and deliberate assault on my snatch, but the sad truth would seem to be that you are an ignorant and careless driver. It is clear that you were not aware that my riding in the middle of the lane is not only legal and acceptable, but safe behavior for a cyclist. It is also clear that you are not intelligent enough to consider the dangers that I faced as you chose to become one of them yourself. Worse yet is the possibility that you didn’t even see me.
I would rather believe that motorists hate my vagina and are waging a deliberate war against it, than the truth, which is that our roads are full of people who may one day kill me because they were feeling aggressive and entitled, checking their phones, or trying to cue up their favorite Nickleback song.
Danielle Baker and her vagina